Caution
by BrandonMuro
Summary: An unknown person has just commited suicide and goes back in time to Degrassi to discover some horrible things.


Caution

_The bottle of pills hit the floor with a thud. The mirror stared me down with a look of despair. My head was aching, and my feet began to feel numb. The life I have been living was slowly drifting off into a black hole. My hands grasped the air for something to grab onto. I clutched the counter as my legs collapsed. I felt as if I had no control. My fingers were tingling and my heart was racing uncontrollably. I could not breathe no matter how hard I tried. Slowly I felt my insides being torn up. The feeling was unbearable. As time went on, my eyes began to shut. My heart shut down. My body had just shut down. I was lying on my bathroom floor with a container of pills, dead. As dead as the night. My time was up. I had lived out my life span. To the age of sixteen. I just could not function in a society with such hatred towards me. I felt stuck. Nobody was ever here for me. I had nobody but myself. If I was ever to be loved it would only be brief. I had never had anyone love me. My life had always been hell. So why not just take my life away, and make everybody else happier. I was lying on the bathroom floor, dead. But I could see and sense what was going on around me. I waited for hours. Eventually it was early morning and my mother walked in to find me lying on the floor, dead. I did not know what was really going on. I watched as she lied on the ground. Crying and holding me. Screaming hatred to the world, even though nobody would ever know what she said. I watched as she fidgeted around in her pocket and got out her cell phone. She punched in the numbers, 9-1-1. Next thing I knew I was in the ambulance. The lights were flashing. Too bright. I felt a pain in my body, almost like a stiffness. I thought about why I had not left my body yet. I was dead anyways. I had given my soul away…or had I? The ride to the hospital was long. I could not stand the wait, and I soon began to wonder what was going on. I felt the ambulance speeding faster than light, although the ride was endless. Just as endless as my life seems. There is a special force holding me back from my freedom. Free from the hatred, discrimination, and not having anybody love me. I was worthless to not only myself, but the world. The world did not deserve someone like me. I let my mind continue to think these thoughts because to me I had been dead for years. Dead to myself. Dead to the people around me. Dead to the people who did not even care for my presence. I was a worthless piece of shit. Who deserved nothing more than their life taken away to another person who needs it. There were two words that kept coming up in my head. Mission Complete. I have completed the mission that took me forever. I have been waiting for this day, even planning for it. Although it did not go as smoothly and I am still here mentally, I congratulate myself for the victory of a lifetime. I am now forever alone. Not in the self centered way those dumb whores say they are. I really am forever alone, and I am forever in peace. Now everybody could go on with their lives, happier. So in the end, I did an amazing thing. The only person who will suffer is my mother. But she deserves it, for all of the pain she put me through as a child. Leaving me with my abusive father while she went to college to become a professor. I had been the one suffering for too long. My pain will still never match up to the way she is feeling now. If I could, I would gently, proudly, pat myself on the back. My thoughts carry on when suddenly I am being thrown from the truck and taken down the emergency room hallways. I have never been fond of the hospital, and its horrendous smell. It has a very germ infested smell. I watch as a boy with a giant stab wound on his stomach crawls into a hospital bed. Another thing I see is the sight of a mother on the phone crying. Crying so hard that there really is no noise coming from her mouth. Just the muffled cries of help to whoever is on the other line. I picture my mother having to call somebody, and then remember that there is nobody. All of our family has left us with nothing. My father is still missing. I am the only child and both grandparents are dead. I cringe when I think about the sight of my grandmother. She wore a long black dress that flowed to the ground. Her boots made a thudding noise as she walked. I could not stand the sight of her ever, and I would gag on the scent of her perfume. She was a wicked old woman. Always mad about something. Always complaining. Always barking out commands to me. I could not take her. So one day I pushed her down the stairs. I was only seven. But I knew she would be hurt. Just not as bad as snapping her neck. When she fell I played it off as an accident, and everyone bought into it. To the day that I died everyone had believed that it was only an accident. That she had tripped on her dress and fallen. Maybe she just took a tumble and it escalated. That's what my mother would say. I did not care for my mother at all. I had zero tolerance for her. She was a piece of shit, who treated me as her slave. _


End file.
